


Lessons in (A Great Deal of) Patience

by AParticularlyLargeBear



Series: Lessons [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Bad Jokes, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8442883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParticularlyLargeBear/pseuds/AParticularlyLargeBear
Summary: It's not clear what's going to kill Lionel first; battle, or sheer stress.His friends seem determined to test that out.





	

"We're _lost_ , Lionel."

"We're not lost, we're just... temporarily looking for directions."

"Sounds lost to me."

"Annie you are not helping."

"Oh I wasn't complaining. Lost is fun."

"Very!"

"You are both children. Both of you."

"Hey! You're like, two months older than me!"

"And younger than me."

"Which simply goes to show how immature you are."

"Yeah? And who's the one who still sleeps with a snuggle pegasus?"

"You leave Ser Hero out of this!"

"Jeez, Morgan. Don't come between a man and his cutesy soft toys, come on."

"I hate both of you. I could have ran into Lucina, or Laurent, or Gerome. But no, instead I get you two."

"And we could have met someone with a sense of humour, like Owain or Brady. And instead we got Lionel the Miserable."

"I am not miserable!"

"Rumour has it that to this day, if Lionel ever smiles, the sky will crack open and Naga Herself will descend from the heavens."

"Annie!"

"So someone told Lionel a joke, and that was how we got into the past?"

" _Morgan!_ "

 "I think that's exactly what happened. Get a joke book and we could win this war in a week."

Lionel threw up both hands in pure frustration.

"You two are... simply unbelievable."

He'd always been one of the responsible ones, but this was pushing the limits, even for him. Lionel had no idea how Lucina had managed to balance the pressures of leading them all with the utter headache that was dealing with these two. Hells, she was  _related_ to Cynthia and Owain, and somehow coped with that as well.

Maybe it came with being the eldest - or maybe even the pranksters knew to tone it down around someone struggling under the burdens that Lucina was.

Lionel missed her. He missed everyone, actually, but Lucina especially. Their parents had always had the relationship of retainer and lord, of loyal servant and gracious master. Lucina, however, had never treated him like that, as much as his father had tried to impress upon him his own dedication to service and the Exalt. And it wasn't that Lionel wasn't loyal to her, or anything, it was just... well, she was his friend, more than she was his lord.

The others tended to view him as too serious, seemed to forget, in the face of how quiet and reserved he was, that he was amongst the youngest of all of them (Morgan and Nah were younger, and Owain wasn't far from his age). Lucina, though, treated him almost like a younger brother. 

Still, she wasn't here right now, so there was little sense pining. What he  _did_ have was Morgan, Annie, and his wits. (Though not for much longer if they continued to torment him so). Those were the resources available to pull themselves out of this mess and reunite with their friends.

The problem, chiefly, was that none of them had any idea where they actually  _were_. They'd spent the better part of two months believing that they were in central Plegia, with its arid climate and biting sands borne upon the wind. That was up until they'd encountered a gaping chasm something like a mile wide - an absolutely enormous canyon wending off into the distance, far as the eye could see. A landmark like that just didn't exist in Plegia, not in their future, not back here in the past.

Meaning that this wasn't only not Plegia, it wasn't anywhere on the Ylissean  _continent._ They all knew their geography well enough to not overlook such a notable terrain feature, and nothing in Ylisse even came close. Ever since, they'd been heading alongside the chasm - a yawning gap that showed no sign of ending. All the while, trying not to dwell on how far away they could truly be from their friends. There had always been the chance that they wouldn't arrive back to the past together, but the foreknowledge didn't make the reality any more pleasant. As annoying as they could both be, Lionel was thankful for Morgan and Annie; without his friends, then this place would be utterly desolate. There was something to be said for the endless chatter. For better or for worse, never a dull moment.

 "Hey, Lionel, knock knock."

Nevermind, he despised both of them with every fibre of his being.

He gave a long, long sigh.

"Knock knooock," sang Annie.

"No."

"Come oooon, Lionel," Morgan wheedled. "Are you going to leave her hanging like that?"

"Honestly? I have every intention of doing so."

"Knock knock!"

"No."

"Psst, Lionel. Knock knock."

"No!"

"Knockity knock knock!"

Lionel closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. Exhaled.

"Who's there?" he said, resigned.

"Boo."

"Boo who?"

"Don't cry, being lost isn't that bad!"

...

"I hate you."

Annie and Morgan broke into fits of giggles. Lionel contemplated hurling himself into the canyon.

Mercifully they both went quiet after that. Just a few more hours and maybe even his overwhelming urge to strangle them would ease off a little. 

At least he could be confident in their abilities. Between the three of them, they had a diverse array of weapons and versatile skills. He had his bow, could wield a sword if needed, knew how to exert discipline and control. Morgan was capable with lance and tome, and had an astute strategic mind. Annie had knives and blades, was excellent as subterfuge and had even flirted with staves, here and there. Not as skilled as say, Brady, but any kind of healing was a welcome boon when resources were so scarce. In fact, if only Morgan hadn't been forced to leave his horse back home, then from a combat standpoint, their trio would have been near enough perfect.

Lionel felt sorry for him. Cynthia and Gerome had made it to the past with their mounts. Morgan's horse, however, had pulled up lame before their group could reach Mount Prism, the result of his frantic flight from the Grimleal. His sister, Kjelle, had been forced to drag him away from the injured animal before Risen caught up to them.

Morgan hadn't cried; he never cried. It was, however, one of only two occasions Lionel had ever seen him upset.

The younger boy's optimism was... weird like that. He took being cheerful to a whole different level, to the point it was at times genuinely disconcerting. Even the most spirited of the rest of them had their moments when they could get downhearted (and there had been precious little to be happy about, over the past years). Morgan hadn't even been phased when he heard one of his mothers was killed. He'd simply crossed his arms, leaned slightly to one side, and then shrugged.

'No she's not,' he'd told Lionel's father, grief etched across the man's face.

Morgan had got into an argument - a fight, really, with his older sister over that one. Even when Lionel and Gerome had pulled Kjelle off of him, bruised bloody, he'd refused to admit Eddi was dead.

Lionel might have thought that was his way of coping, only... when Sully died was the only  _other_ time Lionel had seen Morgan upset. Unlike with Eddi, he'd accepted it instantly, and been utterly brokenhearted. Of course, Morgan wasn't alone in that; they'd all wound up losing their parents. Lionel just couldn't help but think back over and over to that first incongruous reaction.

He was an odd one. 

Though saying as much was a little redundant; nobody with the mark of Grima on their face was likely to be normal. As excitable and friendly as Morgan was, Lionel couldn't claim it wasn't discomfiting to see those eyes staring back at him from his cheek. It was much like the Brand of the Exalt in that regard, to Lionel's understanding. Back when he was young, he'd briefly seen the mark on the back of Eddi's hand, on a rare occasion she hadn't been wearing gloves. Kjelle supposedly had it too, although Lionel had never seen her mark. Severa had taken a sadistic amount of delight in the bright red flush on Lionel's face when she'd announced Kjelle's covered most of her chest and abdomen, then waited for him to put two and two together.

So it was just a bloodline, a birthmark. That wasn't much of a consolation, because what precisely did  _that_ say about Morgan and Kjelle's parentage? 

Morgan was a good person, a fine comrade, but Fel-blooded...

"Something on my face, Lionel?" Morgan quirked a grin at him. "I mean, other than the obvious."

Lionel's cheeks began to warm. He hadn't meant to stare.

"All those bruises from the ugly stick, Morg," Annie chipped in.

Lionel let out a startled bark of a laugh. Morgan suddenly shot bolt upright, on full alert, Annie's hand went to her sword.

In an instant, Lionel had an arrow out and nocked, scanning the horizon, what was out there?

"What is it?" he muttered. He couldn't see anyone. Where were they hiding?

"Sssh," hissed Annie.

"We're looking for Her," Morgan stage whispered.

Lionel frowned. "For who? What are you talking about?"

"Naga."

Lionel stared at them.

"You laughed. She'll be here any second now," Morgan added solemnly.

The Divine Dragon was out there, and She was a cruel and merciless god.


End file.
